


Taking Advantage

by fuzipenguin



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Established Relationship, Mildly Dubious Consent, Other, Sleepy Sex, Sticky Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-03
Updated: 2012-12-03
Packaged: 2017-11-20 05:07:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/581607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuzipenguin/pseuds/fuzipenguin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jazz has only himself to blame for being so delectable, even in the middle of recharge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taking Advantage

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dracoqueen22](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracoqueen22/gifts).



 

     Sideswipe isn’t quite sure what awakens him. He lies still for a long moment, stretching out his sensors. The room around them is silent, the hallway outside the room is quiet, and Jazz is ventilating softly and evenly next to him.

     The frontliner stretches minutely even as he sinks into his bond with Sunstreaker and yup, there’s what woke him. Sunstreaker had never been very good about remembering to block off his side of the link and tonight is no exception.

     Sideswipe really doesn’t want to know what Ratchet is doing to his brother to make him helplessly pulse waves of lust down their bond, so he sends a gentle rebuke back along their connection. In return, there’s a rush of wordless emotion: unashamed apology, smugness, and affection before Sunstreaker’s end of their bond slams shut.

     Huffing a small laugh, Sideswipe sleepily settles back against Jazz. His hand strokes the curve of Jazz’s hip, glad he hadn’t awoken his sensitive lover.

     It had taken them a long time to figure out sleeping arrangements. Like most Spec Op mechs, Jazz preferred to sleep alone. And if he did sleep with another, he wasn’t a fan of being touched or cuddled while in recharge. This had been a problem for Sideswipe, a twin used to recharging next to the other half of his spark. If he wasn’t curled up with Sunstreaker, he was usually snuggled up against whatever mech would take him, lover or not. He would press close, chest to chest or chest to back, his spark unconsciously seeking out the pulse of another during recharge.

     The first time Jazz and Sideswipe had recharged together had nearly been disastrous. For Sideswipe. He had started off on one side of the berth, fully intending to stay there because of Jazz’s warning. But barely an hour into recharge he had reached across and tugged Jazz into his arms. Jazz had reacted badly, resulting in several new and deep dents in Sideswipe’s normally pristine armor.

     The next time, Jazz had forced himself to stay online, suffering through Sideswipe’s clutching embrace and catching a nap between shifts.

     Gradually, over the years, they had come to a compromise. Sideswipe continued to recharge nearly on top of Jazz, but he had trained himself out of his usual claustrophobic embrace. Instead it became more of a relaxed sprawl with as much of his plating as possible touching Jazz’s. And Jazz… had just learned to tolerate it.

     Like now. Jazz is laid out on his side, almost fully flat on his belly. Sideswipe lies over him, nearly covering the width of Jazz’s back. Their feet are tangled together, and Sideswipe’s knee is nudging the back of Jazz’s top thigh.

     They hadn’t seen each other in nearly an Earth month as Jazz has been off doing sneaky things across the country. When he had returned, Jazz had given his report Prowl and then immediately tracked down Sideswipe for a vigorous bout of interfacing.

     Sideswipe shivers a little in blissed remembrance and realizes that his interface panel is still open when a draft of cool air wafts over it. Sideswipe reflexively presses his pelvis against Jazz’s aft with a small purr of his engine.

     Jazz is still in recharge; Sideswipe can tell from years of sleeping next to him. But all the fidgeting Sideswipe had been doing must have brought him a few levels closer to alertness. Jazz murmurs into his pillow and flexes his hips backwards with a small arch of his back. To Sideswipe’s surprise, Jazz’s interface is also open to the air, his array still damp from the earlier mingling of their fluids. Sideswipe’s half erect spike easily glides along the caudal edge of Jazz’s wet valve, and Sideswipe’s length pressurizes even further.

     Sideswipe exvents, his optic shutters falling together as he relaxes against Jazz’s familiar, warm frame. His hips lazily move in small forward and backward presses, the tip of his spike teasingly sliding across the edges of Jazz’s interface. He contentedly continues for several minutes, lost in soft, hazy pleasure.

     He might even have fallen back asleep if Jazz hadn’t shifted in a languorous stretch, tilting his pelvis backwards just enough that the next slow thrust of Sideswipe’s spike pressed the end fully against Jazz’s entrance. There’s little to no resistance in that still slick opening, and Sideswipe slides inward a full inch before even realizing it. He stills a moment, withdraws, and does it again, Jazz sighing with an encouraging twitch of his hips.

     Amazingly, Jazz still seems to be in recharge, limp and sprawled beneath him. Sideswipe wonders if he should stop, wake Jazz up, but his pelvis moves on its own accord. He strokes in and out of Jazz’s valve slowly, almost lazily, feeling the pleasure build another step, but still unhurried. Sideswipe’s valve spasms in sympathy and begins to seep lubricant, trickling down to tickle his inner thigh. Sideswipe slides a hand down his side, over his aft, and brushes his fingertips against the wet opening. He teasingly strokes the very edges of his valve for several minutes, adding to the slow build of charge.

     Eventually though, he wants more, his spike no longer content with such shallow strokes. He shifts to move closer, bury himself more fully, but Jazz ends up moving as well. The saboteur stretches with a quiet noise and then flattens on the berth to a completely prone position, his thighs spreading invitingly.

     Sideswipe moves as Jazz does, not even disengaging his spike. Mindful of his greater weight, Sideswipe settles over Jazz’s back, supporting himself on his elbows as his lower body snugs into the cradle of Jazz’s legs. He tucks his faceplates against the side of Jazz’s neck and nibbles at the edge of a gap in Jazz’s armor.

     Jazz arches his back, testing Sideswipe’s weight blanketing him. He turns his head, his lips pressing against Sideswipe’s cheek before moving in a murmur.

     “Are you takin’ advantage of me while I’m rechargin’?”

     Sideswipe’s hips push forward, finally burying himself fully in Jazz’s depths. He can’t help the moan that slips out as he grinds against Jazz’s aft.

     “Yup. You mind?”

     Jazz’s valve calipers clamp down on Sideswipe’s spike in a rippling wave, forcing out another moan. “Not at all, love. Not at all.”

     Sideswipe continues, each thrust deeper but still as unhurried. He relishes each tight clench of Jazz’s valve as Sideswipe withdraws, each welcoming spasm as he bottoms out. Jazz turns his head further, his lip components finding Sideswipe’s and meeting in a slow, sweet mingling of their glossa.

     Dimly, Sideswipe hears the wet sounds of their lower bodies moving together, Jazz’s quiet moans each time he lifts his hips to meet Sideswipe’s next thrust. Time seems suspended, the outside world far away as Sideswipe loses himself in the motion of his hips, the taste of Jazz’s plating beneath his glossa.

     The charge builds so slowly that even Jazz seems surprised when he suddenly stiffens in overload. His back struts arch in a sinuous wave, pelvis circling back against Sideswipe’s as his valve clenches and releases spasmodically. He moans lowly, hand sliding across the berth to find Sideswipe’s and tangle their fingers together.

     Sideswipe’s rhythm stutters for a moment as Jazz’s valve twitches with oversensitivity. Then he renews pumping in and out of Jazz as his lover goes limp, fans a muted whine in the quiet room.

    “Mmm,” Jazz murmurs. “That was good, Sides.”

     “Glad to be of service,” Sideswipe murmurs back, beginning to feel the tell tale stirrings of overload in his lower abdomen.

    He doesn’t want to overload. The slow, insidious build up of charge is so deliciously different from their normal hot and heavy couplings. He wants it to last forever, to savor every moment.

     Sideswipe tries to hold out for as long as he can, varying his pace and the depths of his strokes.  Jazz is of no help, purring and writhing sensuously, his valve gripping Sideswipe’s spike in controlled waves.

     Finally, Sideswipe succumbs. Overload bursts over him like a gentle but powerful wave, forcing transfluid out of his spike in thick spurts. He shudders, moaning helplessly as the pleasure lifts him up and carries him away, cradled and surrounded in bliss. It feels like forever before he becomes coherent again.

     “Nice,” Jazz comments, peppering kisses against whatever plating of Sideswipe’s he can reach.

     “Mmm," Sideswipe says, still a little drunk on the pleasure high. His frame is finally beginning to stop twitching and he’s halfway to recharge. Jazz grunts as Sideswipe’s larger weight settles atop him.

     “This ok?” Sideswipe asks, nuzzling the back of Jazz’s neck. He has to admit that Jazz makes a pretty awesome pillow, and he doesn’t want to roll away. Jazz has limits, though, limits that Sideswipe tries his best to respect.  

     Jazz shifts minutely before he stills, exventing a resigned sigh. “It’s good for now,” he replies. “You rechargin'?”

     “Mmm-hmm,” Sideswipe murmurs, nearly completely in shut down.

     Jazz huffs a laugh, the movement making Sideswipe’s spike twitch, buried inside Jazz’s soaking valve.

     “You just wait, my mech,” Jazz says, his voice following Sideswipe down into recharge. “You’ve given me some good ideas for wakin' you up in the mornin'.”

 

~ End


End file.
